


Partners in the Dance

by cordite



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e06 Countrycide, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Ship all the ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-05
Updated: 2009-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordite/pseuds/cordite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a car ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners in the Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Regular text is the present. Anything italicized is the past. Comments always welcome. Enjoy!

  


**Title:** Partners in the Dance  
 **Author:** [](http://jubilee-pizza.livejournal.com/profile)[**jubilee_pizza**](http://jubilee-pizza.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating:** PG let's say for some angst and some of Jack being Jack  
 **Parings:** Jack/Ianto with some Owen/Tosh, Jack/Gwen, and Gwen/Rhys (canon basically)  
 **Summary:** It started with a car ride.  
 **Spoilers:** Countrycide (But to answer your question, no, this is not a post-Countrycide-fic.)  
 **Disclaimer:** Clearly, I don't own anything.  
 **Author's Note:** Regular text is the present. Anything italicized is the past. Comments always welcome. Enjoy!

 

It started with a car ride.

 

_For the first half hour of the drive back to the Hub, neither of them spoke a word._

 

It’s a blizzard to end all blizzards. Perhaps literally if Tosh’s readings of the Rift monitor are correct.

“There was a large positive spike followed by a smaller negative spike. I’ve honed in on the coordinates and it appears to be coming from an old storage facility just North of Newport ,” she says, her hands flying across her keyboard.

“It’s always in a fucking abandoned warehouse. You’d think creatures from the future would be just a bit more creative,” says Owen, cramming a piece of pizza in his mouth.

“Well considering all they’ve got to go on is movies we beamed up at them in the 70s, I think they’ve got a more than reasonable excuse,” says Gwen. “Save a slice of that for me.”

“I still think we should go investigate,” Jack says.

“Oh come on, Jack,” Gwen says. “It’s just snow! Let’s have fun for once! Let the aliens sort themselves out.” Jack crosses his arms. Gwen’s face falls just a fraction.

“I’ll go with you, sir,” says Ianto, appearing out of the kitchenette with a tray of mugs.

 

_“Jack.” Owen’s voice cracked over the comm. “Rhys is going to the hospital to meet Gwen. I’ve told him it was a bite off a mad dog. I’m going to take Tosh home once she’s done giving her statement to the police. I might stay over at hers tonight. Make sure she’s alright. She shouldn’t be alone.”_

_Jack didn’t say, “Neither should you.” Instead he said, “Good. Thanks, Owen.”_

_Ianto shifted in his seat. There couldn’t be a comfortable way to sit on bruises like his. Jack knew from his time at the Agency that it would take approximately seventy-two hours for anything to be comfortable._

_Jack didn’t know what he expected to see when he looked at Ianto. Maybe he’d look smaller or maybe he’d be scared, crying even. He didn’t expect the look of intense concentration._

_“What are you doing?” he asked._

_“I was under the impression I was riding back to the Hub in the SUV. Let me know if I’m mistaken though,” said Ianto. He wouldn’t even look at Jack._

_“You looked like you were concentrating on something.”_

_“I was trying to remember a poem. ‘Daffodils’ by William Wordsworth. I want to make sure they didn’t do anything to my memory.”_

_Jack didn’t say, “I know what it’s like. That will only keep the memories at bay for so long.” Instead he said, “I knew Wordsworth. It’s a good thing he chose poetry and not modeling for a career.”_

_Ianto didn’t answer._

 

The snow is coming down in thick curtains. It’s impossible to see, and the fact that they’re on a country road doesn’t help matters. They’ve been driving for an hour and the SUV is getting a bit too cozy. Both of them have taken off their coats, and Ianto has removed his suit jacket as well.

“Satnav says we should have been there by now,” says Jack.

“It also says we should have taken that turn you just passed,” says Ianto.

“What? Damn it! I can’t see a thing. I’m flying blind here.”

“Don’t worry, sir. We’re almost there.”

Jack looks at him, cocking an eyebrow and grimacing. “What?” says Ianto. “I know everything.”  
And sure enough, if they squint just hard enough, they can make out the tiny black shape of a warehouse, marring the pristine white of the snow.

“Besides, sir,” Ianto says grinning. “Would I ever lie to you?”

Jack grins back and there’s a moment, just the briefest of moments, when the world around them dulls to a buzz. But it’s over as soon as it starts, and they continue driving. It’s slow going, and their anticipation for what lies ahead could only be rivaled by kids at Christmas. This is the thrill of the chase, and at the moment, they couldn’t care less about the capture. Whatever was hiding, perhaps even waiting for them, no matter how terrifying or foreign, would be a letdown compared to the high of this hunt.

The warehouse is clearly defined now as they pull to a stop a short walk away. A large smokestack protrudes from the top as if waving a finger at the sky. And out of it pours jets of something thick and white. This is it.

“You know, Ianto,” says Jack. “It might be dangerous in there. I could be killed.”

“And what would I do for those five minutes without you?” Ianto asks, not missing a beat.

“Well.” Jack leans in ever so slightly. “You could properly wish me good bye.”

 

 

_Ianto muttered quietly, forehead in hands. “For oft, when on my couch I lie, in vacant or in pensive mood, they flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude…which is the bliss of solitude…the bliss….” He gripped his hair. “Come on,” he said. “The bliss of solitude….” He took a deep breath before slamming his hand onto the dashboard. “Jack, I can’t remember what’s next. I can’t remember what’s fucking next. Please!”_

_Jack jerked the car onto the side of the road. “Ianto. Ianto!” he said, grabbing his shoulders. Ianto wouldn’t stop thrashing. Jack was starting to panic. He didn’t know what to say. How did you comfort someone who’d been told they were nothing but meat? It always surprised him when, after everything, there were things he didn’t know._

_“And then,” Jack said in his most level voice, “my heart with pleasure fills.” Ianto froze and gave him a wide eyed stare. “And dances with the daffodils.” A pregnant silence fell between them before Ianto opened the car door and vomited onto the grass. As sobs tore their way through Ianto’s body, Jack looked at him and thought for once he really saw him._

_Several minutes later the SUV was pulling back onto the road. “Let’s go home,” Jack said, gripping Ianto’s hand just for a moment._

 

For all either of them knows this could be the end, as Ianto leans in meeting Jack in the middle, like partners in a dance.

 

_It started with a car ride._

 

End.


End file.
